


Rebuilding a Ruin

by Miragefiction



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-04 23:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3096884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miragefiction/pseuds/Miragefiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events in Kirkwall, Hawke and Fenris flee the city together but much remains to be mended between them. A series of short drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Breathing heavily, Hawke hoisted himself up and over the rocks that jutted out near the mouth of the cave. Turning around he went to his knees and bent down to lend a hand to his companion.

Fenris ignored his outstretched hand and lithely climbed up beside him unaided.

Hawke tried to summon a scowl at this behavior, but it slid off his face quickly. He was too tired for petty frustrations. 

Inside the cave it was damp and clammy but it was an improvement over the downpour of rain they had endured for the last few hours of walking. Hawke hoped the rain would help calm things, put people off the mood of fighting for a little while and staunch some of the fires. 

He wondered if the chantry was still burning, even now.

He thought of Isabela and Merrill and hoped they were off already, smiling and safe and sailing across the sea and far away from Kirkwall. He thought of Aveline and Donnic, and took solace in the knowledge that he knew they could weather any storm together. Prince Sebastian would be fine with the power of Starkhaven behind him, though he shuddered to think what vengeance he might be driven to. And Varric... Well, Varric could talk his way out of anything. He hoped.

Hawke tried not to think of Carver, their mother, or Orsino and Meredith, and especially not of Anders. 

He tried to focus on the sound of the water echoing deep under the earth, the cool mist in air, and the knowledge of his current companions were safe with him.

He whistled.

The dog scrambled up the rocks and came into the cave, it’s hot breath steaming in the cool air. Hawke leaned down and stroked it’s wet fur. The beast gave him a soft lick and then proceeded to shake violently, splattering them both.

“Urgh,” Fenris grunted, “Was that really necessary?”

“He has to dry off somehow.” Hawke said with a dull laugh and shook himself. “A Ferelden custom.”

Fenris did not find this amusing. “How about you use that bloody magic of yours and build a fire instead?”

“Never thought I’d live to hear you ask me to perform magic.”

“Frankly, after Kirkwall, I’m surprised either of us are alive at all.” Fenris countered dryly. 

Hawke tossed his pack on the ground and dug through it. “Even if I had the energy to summon much of a flame here, we would need to find something for it to burn. I can’t just summon a ball of unending fire. And all the wood around here is soaked through.” He pulled out a small lantern and set it on the ground. Hawke waved at it half-heartedly and the wick emitted a small flame.

“This much will have to do for now.”

Fenris sighed and slumped against the far side of the cave. “Some use magic is then...” He grumbled, “You fight off abominations and you can’t even make a damn campfire?”

Hawke ignored his sniping and instead began to peel the wet clothes off his body.

This startled Fenris into silence for a moment, and when Hawke glanced back at him, Fenris quickly averted his eyes.

Feeling slightly emboldened, Hawke draped his shirt and cloak over some rocks. “You should get out of those wet things, too.” He suggested. “They’ll dry better if you hang them up.”

Fenris was reluctant, for several reasons Hawke imagined, but he only offered one excuse. “I don’t want to be caught naked when those templars catch up with us.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Hawke said, “Carver is a shit-head, but he won’t allow someone to behead his own brother. Not yet anyways. Not after we fought off Meredith and Orsino for them.”

“Blind trust has ever been your weak point, Hawke.” Fenris sighed, but when Hawke looked back at him he was unfastening the armor. He tossed it down with a clang and pulled off his shirt as well. In the dim light of the lantern, his lyrium tattoos shone briefly.

Hawke gave him some sense of privacy and looked out the cave mouth and back down past the forest below. In the distance, he could almost see smoke rising from the city. Or was it just his imagination?

“You’re right, I suppose.” He said, “I should chose my friends a bit more wisely from now on.”

“Or at least not help them build explosives.” Fenris offered. He wrung out his shirt, and a sizable amount of water dripped onto the floor.

Hawke laughed, but it was hollow. “You were right about him, I suppose. In some ways.”

Fenris snorted. “Some ways...?”

Hawke shrugged tiredly. “When driven to desperation, there is not much a trapped animal can do but lash out. Blindly, foolishly, hurting itself...”

“And blowing up chantries?”

Hawke sighed and leaned against a rock, the stone cold against his bare back. His dog curled up beside him, shivering miserably. Hawke laid a gentle hand on the poor creature’s head. 

“What a fool I have been.” He said softly.

Fenris was silent for a long moment, and some of the fire seemed to die within him as well. “We... We both have been foolish.” He said.

Hawke rubbed the dog’s ear between his fingers, feeling the soft texture. It was reassuring somehow. Under the blood and dirt and rain, the dog was still warm and living. And so was he. Somehow.

He looked up at Fenris expectantly.

The elf did not meet his eyes. “I... I should not have left your side. If I had been there, if I had seen... If I had known...”

“No one knew.” Hawke said a little more harshly than he meant to, “No one ever thought he... They were capable of such things. Anders. Orsino. Or Meredith. Even the damnable Arishok. They were all pots left boiling and we ignored them all until they blew up in our faces. We all have blood on our hands now.”

“... Yes. We do.” Fenris said slowly. “Still, I should not have left.”

Hawke did not reply immediately, just letting the words fill the cave with them for a moment.

“It would be nice,” Hawke began again, looking down at his dog, “If you would just not... Decide to leave again later. I think I’ve had enough betrayal for a while.”

He didn’t look up to witness the look on Fenris’ face, but the long silence that followed was as tense as a bowstring. It held there, taught, in the air between them for a long moment. 

“When I said I would stay with you,” Fenris said finally, his deep voice sounding sad and loud in the empty cave. “I meant it.”

Hawke felt the pressure in the back of his neck relax. 

“Thank you.” He sighed.

He held out his hand again, and this time Fenris stepped forward and took it.


	2. Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris and Hawke are on the run after the events of Kirkwall and stop for a moment of respite. Their bruises have healed, but some scars may never disappear. Another short drabble.

“...Don’t... Ah...”

“Mmm. You don’t like it? This part of you seems to be enjoying it...”

He gave him a long, slow lick.

Fenris grabbed him roughly by the hair. “Stop.”

Hawke stopped. Fenris released him and he slid backwards and sat back on his legs, looking abashed. “Sorry.”

Fenris rolled over and away from him.

Hawke sighed and laid down again, beside him. “Was I really that bad? I mean, I know I’m out of practice, but...”

Fenris was silent, which Hawke knew meant he did not appreciate the joke.

“Sorry.” Hawke repeated, flopping back onto the pillow.

“Stop apologizing.” Fenris said quietly.

Hawke sighed again. “All right.” He paused, waiting. Silence hung in the air again for a moment. “You need anything?”

“Just give me a moment, please.”

“Right.” He said, “I’ll get some air.”

Hawke pulled his pants back on and walked, rather uncomfortably, to the balcony door and then outside. In the winter evening, the air was crisp and he could see the steam rising from his breath. There was movement in the corner and he jumped, only to relax when he saw it was only the dog. The big creature came and sat at his side, tail wagging. Smiling tiredly, Hawke patted him on the head.

He stared out at the unfamiliar buildings around them. Most of the windows here were dark, fires long burnt low as the town slept. It was quiet and cold. Back in Kirkwall there would probably be parties all night long in hightown on a clear night light this. Well, at least that how was before... He sighed again. He never thought he would miss the sound of a drunken countess cackling at 3am.

“Champion, eh..?” He sighed, “Who wants to be champion of a smoking crater?”

The dog whined and Hawke patted him again.

“Yeah,” He said, “I miss it too, boy.”

He was just thinking about going back inside when the door opened behind them and Fenris stepped out, looking apologetic and rather pathetic dressed only in Hawke’s large tunic. For a moment his tattoos glowed dully in the darkness, then faded away.

“Urgh, it’s freezing out here.” He grumbled, crossing his arms. “How are you standing out here without your shirt on? Get back inside.”

“I figured I needed to cool down.” Hawke answered, following him back into the room. “I was a bit... Warm.”

“You don’t need to freeze it off.”

“You sure about that?” Hawke asked.

Fenris gave him a look. “I’m sure.”

“Well then...” Hawke said, sitting back on the bed. “How about helping me thaw?”


End file.
